Nyx De Riva? Yeah, I've heard of him.

After Amara had said her piece, she decided to retire to their apartment on the other side of Treviso before she - as she put it -  ‘raised all the dead in the canals to make sure his grandmother heard her this time.’ Lucanis had escorted her home and - once assured she was settled - returned to the Villa to ensure there was nothing demanding his immediate attention.

He hadn’t wanted to - curling up with Amara was vastly preferable to trekking back across Treviso and triaging the correspondence that had piled up in his absence - but he would not let it be said he was shirking his duty or that Caterina had chased them out of the house.

Thankfully, the work was not as bad as he feared. His precautions before their trip had done their job. There was also no sign of his grandmother. He dared to relax a bit, to think that there would be no more difficult conversations or unpleasantness tonight, until Illario darkened the doorway just as he was ready to escape his study and go home.

A very inebriated Illario, Lucanis noted, based on the heady scent clinging to him and the goblet he held as he waltzed into the room. He had been at dinner when they told Caterina Amara was expecting and had promptly made himself scarce once tempers began to flare.

Lucanis didn't blame him - he hadn't wanted to stay for that either.

Illario stopped just in front of his desk, blinking lazily at the neatly stacked paperwork. “Leaving so soon?”

“Yes,” Lucanis said, standing up. “There is nothing that cannot wait till morning.”

Illario tisked softly, throwing his arm around Lucanis’ shoulder as he tried to move past. “No. You cannot leave before I toast your return, Cousin. Dinner ended so abruptly, I didn’t have the chance.”

Lucanis considered his options, tamping down Spite’s knee jerk desire to fight their way out of the loose hold Illario had on them. Letting Illario say whatever he needed to say was likely the fastest path to getting home to Amara. “If you must.”

Illario grinned. “To the perfect son of House Dellamorte,” he said, toasting with his mostly empty glass. “Completed an impossible contract, got himself an unconventional but brilliantly connected wife, and even managed to do his marital duty as soon as she signed the marriage contract.” Illario threw back the rest of his drink with a grimace. “You know Caterina assumed my future nibblings were going to spring from the womb spinning daggers, ready to continue our glorious legacy, but now -” Lucanis watched warily as he gestured, thrusting the cup around with such force that he feared they would both topple over.

“Now, I find out you told her no.” Abruptly, Illario shifted, grabbing Lucanis by the shoulder and turning so they were face to face. “You told her no! You are capable of standing up to her and her mad expectations!” 

“Would you prefer I not?” Lucanis asked, shrugging off his cousin’s hand.

“No. No. You have to. Going to be a Father, you need to protect them, you need - I just -” Illario muttered something, turning away and flopping into the nearest chair. He tossed his cup on the side table. It landed lopsided, teetering on an edge before rolling to the floor.

Lucanis picked up the cup, trying to ignore the tight awful anxious anticipation spurred by Illario’s words - the same demon that had gripped him during dinner. That had been haunting him since they returned to Treviso. The harsh reality of what bringing a child into this life and family was going to look like. He hoped his voice was steady enough to reply or - failing that - Illario too drunk to note any slip. “If you have something to say, say it.”

Illario stared up at the ceiling. “For Rook. You were willing to stand up to Caterina for Rook.”

The statement sat in the space between them, the unspoken shadows beneath unbearably loud. Neither looked at the other, Illario still intent on the ceiling, Lucanis staring towards the wood paneled desk without seeing it.

He was tired. Probably too tired for this conversation. He was definitely too sober for it, though that was easily solved by the brandy in the hidden compartment behind his desk. He secured a cup for himself and one for Illario and sat next to him, sipping the drink and trying to order his thoughts.

This wasn’t getting him any closer to his warm bed and wife, but there was a fragile tension here. Lucanis was sure walking away would be making a decision about his family’s future - and who was still a part of it. What had seemed simple and joyous out in the greater world with Amara at his side felt suffocating and threatening and real in the shadows of his family home, in the echoing legacy of all their ghosts.

In the disapproval of his Grandmother.

In the rueful gaze of the cousin he loved as a brother who had done his best to kill him and who was asking why Lucanis hadn’t been able to fight for the family he had the way he was fighting for the family he was making.

“I wasn’t able to at first,” he said, once his cup was nearly empty.

“Hmm?”

“Stand up to Caterina. Amara called her out on the comments. I was - just there.”

“You made it clear where you stood,” Illario said.

“I should have done more. I should have said something as soon as she broached the topic.”

Illario leaned back, swirling the liquid in his cup around. “I don’t know, I think your Rook enjoys having demons to tame.”

“I should have been able to do it sooner,” Lucanis said, turning to look at his cousin.

Illario froze, then snorted, waving the words away, but there was a thickness to his reply. “She made damn sure you couldn't. We couldn't.”

“Still,” Lucanis said. He hoped Illario heard the apology there. He also expected his cousin understood why Lucanis wouldn’t actually apologize.

He had tried to kill him, after all.

Illario looked at him, meeting his eyes for a moment and giving a slight nod. When Lucanis stood, he did the same.

“I will need help,” Lucanis said. “I do not know how to be a Father.”

“No one does. Besides, I get to be their Tío. Spoil them. Show them how to get into trouble.”

Lucanis caught the slight upward hitch as he spoke. Illario didn’t quite make it a question, but Lucanis answered as if it were. “Yes, you get to be their Tío. Maker help us.”

Illario smiled. His actual smile, not the mask he wore so often. “You’re going to be good at this. And if you aren’t, Rook will kill you - so you do not have to worry about messing your children up too badly.”

“That is actually a comfort,” Lucanis said. And it was - knowing Amara would hold him accountable and that the one person who truly understood the horrors of his own childhood would do the same. He held up his glass. “Another toast, before I leave - since I did not have a drink for the last one.”

Illario dutifully held out his glass.

“To House Dellamorte,” Lucanis said solemnly. “Bloody and broken but breathing.”

“And breeding,” Illario said, carefully clinking their glasses together. “Maker, Lucanis.”

“We will do better by our children,” Lucanis said quietly as he finished his drink.

“Well, we cannot do any worse,” Illario replied wryly, doing the same.

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 7

Thank you @datvcompanionweeks for hosting 💜 Amazing Lucanis border by @gutz-ingellvar 💜 Time is a social construct and it is always Lucanis week in my heart. (also, it was the right call to let this sit until I actually had time to tackle the brother/cousins and their inability to be emotionally vulnerable with each other 😅)